


Dooming of the Waking Dead (Unfinished); Alternatively: In Which Sollux Can't Find his Bearings Enough to Save his Friends

by CO_Rosette



Series: Sollux Fucks Around [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: At The Time Of Writing It Could Have Been Canon, Canon AU If That Makes Any Sense, F/M, Gen, M/M, No Plot, Random Things Happen, Sollux Stumbles In And Ruins Everything Even More, domestic abuse, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6639016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CO_Rosette/pseuds/CO_Rosette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an old fic that I dug up while awaiting the end of the gigapause. I decided to post it since right after the series ended everyone was musing over the nostalgia of their early fanworks. Here's mine. It is set from the Great Cliffhanger of 2013 upd8.</p>
<p>After leaving Vriska's pirate crew behind, Tavros, Sollux, Nepeta, and Feferi reach the inner border of the furthest ring. They realize that it borders the Alpha session where everyone has finally come together. Being the only one with any life left in him, Sollux is sent into the grasping tendrils of its insipisphere so that he can help his friends' session for once be successful. Blind, alone, defenseless, and no longer used to the living, breathing world, Sol can do no help but instead stumble through the insanity that Aranea and Her Imperious Condescension have left in their wake whilst only hoping to make allies powerful enough to help the session succeed once and for all and prevent the timeline from becoming a doomed one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dooming of the Waking Dead (Unfinished); Alternatively: In Which Sollux Can't Find his Bearings Enough to Save his Friends

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's a bit late since Homestuck ended over a week ago and maybe the drama around that has finally died down. But I'm working on a follow-up story set in the new universe that is also from Sollux's point-of-view as he tries to adjust himself to life in a strange, new world and will have a few shout-outs to this fic. I never posted this before other than briefly on fanfiction.net a long time ago. I just wanted to put in my two cents on previous contributions as we look back on the memories of this bizarre fandom.

A clear but nondescript illusion of dawn paints the background of one particular bubble. No one is sure whose memory it is, as no one has any recollection of seeing this setting anytime before. It’s almost as if there was a brief catastrophe that left them all blinded with amnesia. The scenery diverges into top-and-bottom halves, the top being a faded, watercolor magenta while the bottom slowly dissolves into a translucent, midnight. Blinking dots of stars sprinkle the magenta, each lighting in serene alternation much like a million sparkly fireflies.

Tavros, Sollux, Nepeta, and Feferi all trek exhaustedly through the quiet expanse. It truly is a beautiful sight to behold, though only through the eyes of inexperienced Sgrub players. Alas, the four trolls take no interest in their surroundings, practically being dream bubble nomads by this point. They’ve seen far more fascinating things in countless other bubbles and are frankly exhausted of all of it so to speak. Not once in the waking world had any of them believed being dead could be so tiring.

Tavros, in the lead, comes to an abrupt halt. As could be an expected result of this action, Sollux, Nepeta, and Feferi promptly crash into the back of him, falling into a tangled mess as consequence. “Augh! Tavros, what the fuck?” Sollux grabs his face and tries desperately to find his legs. Of course for him it’s a lot harder than for say one of the girls to simply get up and then help him to his feet, which is exactly what his former matesprit, Feferi does a few moments later. “You know I can’t see you stop.”

One might expect Sollux and Feferi’s relationship to have hit a few bumps in the past couple weeks since they left Vriska and the others, what with Feferi being dead, and that would be true. Sollux’s other half currently melded with Eridan as Erisolsprite, tried hard to apologize for what happened so long ago but only ended up being responsible for the death of people he cared about yet again. After meeting up with Nepeta and Feferi again, this time with his blind half, he and Feferi often had long talks on the pirate ship about their deaths and current events. In the end they both decided that with Feferi’s impending doom at the hands of the Lord of Time as well as the mortality difference between the two of them as of now, Sollux would eventually have to return to Aradia and the land of the living sometime in the future.

Tavros continues to stare blankly at what is in front of them, “Uh, guys? I think we’ve reached the brink of death.”

“All of us have died at least once,” Sollux remarks while brushing himself off, still annoyed about the fall. “It shouldn’t be news anymore.”

“Actually Sollux,” Feferi explains. “I think he means we’ve reached the end of the dream bubbles. Out there may very well be the new session. Our old friends, living, breathing individuals like you, could be out there right now!”

Though he is incapable of seeing, Sollux gapes in awe at whatever is worth beholding, “You really think so?”

Sollux feels something lightly tap him on the back. He turns around instinctively, already knowing it’s Nepeta, “Hey Sollux, you know how yurrr the only live one of us?” Sollux nods. Of course he knows. “Maybe you can try to cross through? You’re purrobably the only one who can.”

“What do you mean cross through? You mean leave all of you?” Sollux frantically shakes his head and makes x-marks with his arms. This idea is not okay. “You know I can’t do that! Who knows when the next time I see you will be? Lord English could appear any moment in time!” He feels Feferi’s gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns to her, desperate for support.

“Sollux,” she says with a loving, but sad tone. At that moment he knows none of this will help him. They strongly believe he should leave them all behind and escape while he can.

“Feferi, no. I can’t,” he pleads, near pathetically. “You all know I can’t!”

He feels Feferi pull him into a hug, “Sollux, please. Do this for us. See if you can save us. Help our live friends. You’re the only one who can since Aradia’s helping all the dead ones. Besides, in life you’ll be safer hidden from English.”

“English could get to anyone no matter where they are,” Sollux continues to argue, thoroughly frustrated. “You know that.”

“Uh, you do know that English is indestructible,” Tavros points out. “So you couldn’t exactly do anything if he comes even if you were to stay.”

Sollux looks at his three friends, though he doesn’t know quite what each of their expressions are. Whatever they are, they seem to have made up their minds, “You really think this what I should do?”

“Of course we do!” Nepeta exclaims. “If you survive, than it may be to give us a fighting chance, and if you don’t, you can just come right back here with us!”

That’s final. They’ve made up their mind. Sollux holds his head and sighs, “Well, if that’s really what you want.” He turns to pink-tinted space of oblivion, wondering exactly how he’ll go about exiting the afterlife. There is no door, and the only way Sollux was able to enter the dream bubbles was because his dead half allowed him to do so. But now that he’s fully alive, will he even be able to return if he leaves?

His thoughts are cut off when Tavros lets out a startled scream and a large, black object comes hurtling out of nowhere. It whirs right past Sollux’s head, nearly taking out his second, right horn. Terezi’s smelling lessons just barely signify the color and size while the rest is all a jumbled blur.

The other three trolls- the ones with actual sight- gawk, their jaws gaping open at the giant, chasmal hole in time and space the black thing just ripped open. Sollux notices their silence and turns back around, “Um, what are you guys staring at?”

Tavros blurts out, “Sollux, don’t you see that?”

“No,” Sollux growls, slightly irritated at the number of times they’ve been over this issue.

“The dream bubble,” Nepeta gasps. “I think they popped it!”

“Can someone please explain to me what’s going on,” Sol mumbles, thoroughly confused.

Sollux feels Feferi’s hands grab him again and turn him around to the hole, “Sollux, whatever that thing was, it flew straight through the bubble and back into the living, breathing world! Right now, we stand here watching the drifting rift in the space-time continuum. All you have to do is step through, and best part is, right outside leads to the Land of Frost and Frogs!”

Sol’s eyebrows go up in surprise, “Jade’s planet?” What an odd coincidence. Suddenly, Fef’s hands push him forward, willing him to do what they’ve planned. He stumbles in the hole’s direction, noes to the air, trying to recall what Terezi taught him about seeing through taste and smell. He hears the cheers of the others behind him, slowly fading away with each awkward step, “Come on Sollux, you got this. We know you can do it.”

“When you get the oppurrtunity, tell our old friends hi!”

“Don’t –uh- trip. ‘Cause your blind.”

He feels a whoosh of air slide briskly passed his face which tells him he must be passing through the hole. But he realizes exactly what it is he’s doing, everything goes terribly wrong once he fully returns through the barrier out of the Furthest Ring. His float is gone and his body begins to tip to one side as he plummets down to the snowy planet. Sollux prays that he didn’t exit the afterlife just to die and return again.

Luckily, the hole in the dream bubble isn’t that far from the ground, so Sol ends up landing on the frosty grass with only a slightly painful thud. Dazed, he slowly sits up, his head spinning from all the recent trauma. Having no sight or skill to work with no sight can occasionally work to your advantage as it sharpens all of your other senses. Right now is one of the few times it ever works to Sol’s. He never thought he’d be able to describe the sound of wreckage, but now the smoldering mess that smells like oranges and baked goods rings all too clear in the blind troll’s ears- along with the incessant ramblings of a strikingly familiar voice.

“Whoa. That was trippy,” a gruff voice grumbles from not too far away. “Everyone okay in there?” Spades Slick takes out his captchacard and releases the orange oven in which his crew currently resides, rapping his knuckles firmly against it.

About a minute of incoherent complaining from the boneheaded felt precedes a muffled, “Yes. We’re fine,” of Ms. Paint from inside.

Relieved, Slick leans into the oven, “Alright, hang tight fellas. We’ve reached our jackpot destination. I just have to figure out where to go from here, and where exactly English could be hiding. I’ll let you out if I spot any trouble.” A small groan from a little ways off catches Slick’s attention. He immediately spins around to face the direction of the noise. “I think I might’ve found something already.”

Slick recaptchalogues the oven and begins to walk along the frosty path, examining for signs of intelligent life. The frozen grass crunches underneath his feet with each step and patches of snow litter the ground. Countless, tiny frogs peek at him from behind rocks and roots while others dodge out of the way of his oncoming footsteps, or at least the live ones do. That’s all this whole place seems to be- just a bunch of frost and frogs.

Slick stops in his tracks as he hears it again. Another groan. It’s closer this time. It seems as though it’s from possibly a carapace, troll, human, cherub, or any other species possessing the intellectual capability of playing the game that brought about his very existence. He would guess the owner of the voice is an adolescent male of some sort. This brings back plenty of memories of his time years ago as an agent of Derse, making an alliance with the players of his session, twelve adolescent trolls- one of which he grew rather fond of. Karkat is his name, as he remembers. Slick often wonders what those trolls are up to nowadays. The last he ever heard of them was that they were about to win their session when something went wrong. He never figured out what, but he somehow feels it indirectly had something to do with that insufferable prick, Scratch. It’s a good thing that guy is dead now. Slick never could take any of his bullshit.

He quickens his pace, eager to know what will meet his sight. Finally, a limp figure appears, lying in the snow. Everything Slick previously assumed about the figure turns out to be true. From the dark hair and grey skin, he can quickly tell it’s a troll, his average height tells him that he is in fact of adolescence, and the slim, lengthy figure reveals the masculinity. Is this his session? Did the trolls Slick made an alliance with have to reboot their universe after he himself put a bullet through it?

But wait a minute. As Slick gets closer he finds there is something very peculiar about this troll. This one has double horns. Could it really be him? Slick assumes he’s a psiionic judging by the red and blue-colored eye-patches (which he’s not sure why he’s wearing since they’re quite ridiculous), and his shirt has the yellow sign of the Gemini on it, so he must be a yellow-blood. Yep. It’s definitely him. Suddenly, the troll speaks up in a weak, shaky voice, “Licorice. I smell you. We know each other from somewhere.”

All alone and helplessly blind, Sol grapples around in the snow before finally lying still. This is completely pointless. He should have known he wouldn’t’ve been able to do anything useful. Footsteps trudge through the snow, closer and closer from where he heard that voice earlier. Finally Sol knows someone stands right next to him when the footsteps stop inches from his head. Tentatively, he once again raises his nose to the air and sniffs hard. He catches a whiff of…licorice? What does this mean? Urgently, Sollux searches his mind for what Terezi said about smelling colors. Licorice is black. What else is black other than troll hair and most Alternian color scheme? Only one other thing stands out in Sollux’s mind amidst all the darkness. Every carapacian inhabitant of Derse was a pitch black color, most prominently Jack Noir, but not the one that entered their session from the humans’ and killed all their dream selves, causing them to restart both universes.

Sol remembers how while playing sGrub, he and his friends made an alliance with their session’s Noir to help him kill the black king and queen, so he never could hurt them and in the end sort of formed a small bond with Karkat. Whoever stands before him now smells exactly like Jack Noir looked except more battered and…robotic. But he can’t be him. He had to have been killed in the scratch, right? Even so, the only thing Sol can think whoever this is to be is some sort of carapace. His pursuer speaks with the very same voice of both Jack Noir and the voice he heard earlier, “Hey, kid. It’s been a while. Where’s your crybaby friend and all your other friends for that matter.., and what’s with the double eye-patches? I can stab whoever took your eyes and get them back for ya.”

Sollux sputters for a second, “What happened to your arm? I probably won’t be able to get it back regardless.”

Slick lets out a rumbling chuckle. This kid’s alright, “Not on the ground your not.” He extends his robotic arm to grab the troll’s left arm. The troll pathetically wriggles around, attempting to ease himself upward as Slick pulls him to his feet. Sollux wobbles around a little at first but Slick steadies him, offering support wherever he can. He gets another chance to fully study the troll. He’s sure he’s the same one but with stupid-looking eye-patches this time, and he does seem to remember him, “I know you. I remember Deuce keeping tabs on ya while I kept tabs on your friend that cried and yelled a lot. Jegus, that all seemed so long ago.”

“Karkat?” Sollux blurts out nearly losing his balance. It’s all coming back now.

“Yeah! That’s his name,” Slick snaps his fingers in realization. “Whatever happened to that little wuss anyway?”

“Actually, he’s sort of who I’m looking for, among others, of course,” Sol spills out everything that’s going on at the moment. He’s incredibly relieved to have found someone he knows, even if he is just an acquaintance. “I really don’t know what’s going on right now. I know this planet, but I assumed this was just another dream bubble until you came. Karkat is supposedly at the rebooted session now. You wouldn’t happen to have seen him lately, have you?”

“Sorry, kid but no. That’s why I asked you in the first place. Matter of fact, I haven’t heard from you since you freaked out on Derse right before that fish girl kissed your corpse.”

“Oh,” Sollux feels a pang as he realizes how much he already misses Feferi. “You saw that.”

“Yep. Deuce said he spoke two words to you and then you just flipped the fuck out. Oh gog, you remind me so much of him!”

“So, uh, how did you survive, then?”

“Oh. It’s really complicated. I’ll let you in on this piece of trivia, I’m the one who ended your universe.” Before either could say anymore, the sound of obnoxious barking omits from the gnarled woodland below along with a brilliant, pink burst of light that appears in the sky and quickly descends to the sounds of the barking. To Sollux, those barks are all too familiar. “Jegus! What was that?”

“I know who that is, Mr. Noir.”

“Who?”

“It’s you from a parallel dimension. He was following the meteor Karkat was on, which tells me that this is the new session, and if this is it, then Karkat and the others could be somewhere around here as well.” The continuous, angry barking of what sounds like two dogs off in distance continues. Sol has no idea where the second dog came from, but he does know this is the first time he’s ever felt a sense of dread at the number two.

Sol still can’t figure out what the giant, orange block is among the stench of mandarin cookies.

Slick kneels to help Sollux up again. Slowly, he guides him down the steep slope and into the twisted woods. The vicious barks and growls grow louder as they trek deeper in. Low branches from the tangled trees intrude the narrow path and in their way, threatening to snag onto whatever wanders near. The frogs in the woods are more alive in both the literal and figurative sense and there is notably less snow. Violet-colored hummingbirds and weird, small, sparkly…things float down from the treetops.

They reach a cluster of trees. The barking seems to come from within. Slick whispers for Sollux to stay put. Amongst the snarling dogs, they can also hear someone yelling rather profound but useless altercations. Sollux recognizes him as Dave Strider. The sight that beseeches Slick’s eyes is a bewildering one as he peeks through the trees. Two dogs near identical, one black, the other white, both curl their lips in a snarl whilst pointing their swords at a blond god tier with shades who also wields a way cooler sword. The black dog, who reminds Slick the most of what he used to be, holds the body of another god tier, a witch of space by the looks of her, though she appears to be dead currently. Perhaps she was Noir’s victim? How in paradox space did he ever manage to kill a god tier?

Slick trudges back to where Sollux sits and nudges him on the shoulder, “Come on, kid. Let’s see if you can sniff this out.” He links his arm with him and carefully guides the troll to the clearing of trees. “Any idea why there’s also a white, gender-flipped version of me?”

Sol takes a nice, big whiff, concentrating hard. What he gets is more licorice, some vanilla, what he recognizes as Dave’s candy red god tier outfit, and also a mysterious hint of strawberries from off in the distance, “The black dog smells a lot like you, though a lot less like a cyborg. He’s the one who broke into our session and doomed us to failure. I’ve never seen the white one before, but the red one is Dave. This was his universe before he had to reboot it. If he’s here, it’s likely so are the others. There’s another smell here, but it smells a little weird, like the road-kill Nepeta’s lusus would always drag in whenever I’d visit her hive.”

Slick’s heart begins to ache despite his better judgment. What’s gotten into him that turned him into such a softie all of a sudden? “You know that dog girl? Not the white one, the one that’s also part human. She looks like some kind of spacey witch. I think she may be what you’re smelling.”

“You mean Jade? I never actually met her in person, but I don’t know why she would be a dog. She is the witch of space, so she has to be the one. Why, what’s wrong with her?”

“I’m sorry, kid, but I think she’s dead…”

“What? What do you mean she’s dead?” suddenly, the strawberry smell becomes stronger than ever and a rather distracting sci-fiish noise is heard. Slick is taken completely off guard as a spontaneous, pink spark flashes through the woods. The firework of heart explodes to reveal yet a third god tier clothed in a rather peculiar prince getup, poofy pants and all. His clothes are a magenta color with the sBurb heart symbol clear on his top, introducing him as the prince of heart. He bears a striking resemblance to Dave, only with spikier hair and kickass anime shades. Before he can ask the question, Sollux answers it. “I don’t know who that is. I’d assume he’s Dave’s ancestor judging by the lemony hair and licorice shades, or at least that’s going by what Aradia told me.”

The two watch as Dirk stands there in bewilderment at the sight of his young bro fighting two godly dogs over his witch’s dead body. He stays in that awkward position for a while, not quite knowing what to do before finally gathering up enough courage to call out a few sentences, “Bro? Is that really you?”

That turns out to be a horrible idea. At the sound of the slightly familiar voice, Dave snaps his head up and looks around for the source, distracted from his trial. Immediately, Bec Noir seizes this opportunity and with a quick slash of his sword, Dave goes down.

“NO!” Sollux cries out, unable to control himself. Slick tries to hold him down, but Sollux is already making his way out into the clearing, the smell of death and human blood fresh in his mind. The dogs are too frenzied by Sollux’s sudden outburst that they forget to finish the knight off. Stumbling down to the group, Sollux falls to the ground and attempts to feel out Dave’s body. He clings onto a limp figure and can feel his warm, candy-red blood oozing out onto his fingers. “Oh gog.” He sniffs out Dirk and turns his head in his direction. “What did you just do?”

Horrified, Dirk frantically stutters, “I didn’t mean this at all! I swear!”

Sol stands up as best as he can, facing the dogs and throwing his arms straight out in front of him in a pathetic attempt to guard the body. He hears a hard thud on the grass, which he assumes is Bec Noir dropping Jade’s corpse in order to raise his sword for the kill. His mind races. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Just get them out of here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Dirk seems to get the message as he hurriedly flies over and uses his levitation powers to lift both Dave and Jade off the ground and then flies away with them while the dogs are still distracted.

Sollux can’t see, but he’s sure Noir is about to slice him in half just like he did to his dream self. Blind and defenseless, Sol can do nothing but block his unseeing face with his shaking arms while he waits for the worst. Not knowing exactly what to do, he mindlessly shouts, “Jack, I need your help now!”

“I’m on it!” Slick shouts over to the struggling troll. He has to act fast if Sol is to survive. Bec Noir looked like he was about to slash him open the way he did to the blond human but then Bec Blanche suddenly intervened and continued the fight the two were originally in. Quickly, Slick pulls out his card and again extracts the oven, rapping on it harshly with his foot, “Eh! Paint! Get the guys ready! We’ve found something!”

He pulls the oven into the open. A faint sound emanates from inside, the sound of voices, many voices. They sound as if they’re arguing amongst themselves. Slick becomes agitated, “Shut up in there! I told you I’d let you all out when it’s time!” The voices quickly cease. “Alright, crew. I need you to protect that troll from those two dogs over there.” With a heave, he yanks open the oven door and his crew spills out, eager for some action after being stuck in a cramped area for so long.

Ms. Paint leads the rest of the felt out into the clearing in a cluster of greenery. Immediately they all throw themselves as one giant mass onto the stunned dogs and begin to beat down on both of them.

In the midst of all the chaos, Slick determinedly sprints in himself in search of Sollux. He finally finds him sputtering and disoriented on the ground in the middle of the battle. Slick grabs him, pulls him to his feet, and looks around for Ms. Paint. He spots her sneaking up behind Noir while he’s occupied fighting his way through the rest of the felt. Quietly she retrieves Snowman’s old cigarette holder from her sylladex and holds it at the ready. “Paint!” Slick calls out frantically as she prepares to stab the holder into the back of Noir’s head. “Come quick! We need you.” Paint’s head spins around to Slick’s direction. She squeezes herself hastily out from the fight and makes her way around the writhing mass of green to her fiancé. “Ms. Paint, let them deal with the dogs and help me get him to a safe place. We should probably follow where that violet kid went.”

“How do you know that’s a safe place?” Paint has to raise her voice to be heard over the clamor of the skirmish taking place around her.

“I don’t,” Slick responds, yelling just as loud. “I’m just assuming!” That seems to be enough to convince Ms. Paint. She hurries over to take Sollux’s other arm and wrap it over her shoulder. Both her and Slick slip slowly but unnoticed away from the battle and through the thick woodland, carrying the blind troll upon their shoulders. The same pink flash of light that marks Dirk’s trail illuminates the sky again, heading above the trees in the direction of what looks like west. Ms. Paint and Slick don’t know where the human is headed, but anywhere is better than this forest. The two keep on a windy but consistent trail that seems to be leading them to yet another clearing high on a hill. Dirk looks like he’s following the trail too. Some low-hanging branches smack them in the face but they keep going. “Paint, look!” Slick points to the sky, hovering just above the large hill.

“Oh my! What is that thing and why is he heading for it?” Ms. Paint gasps. As they continue to run, a shadow comes over them. A shadow cast by a giant, red spaceship spreads across the expanse of what looks like over a mile. The ship is shaped like the end of a double pitchfork and shows a white, crockerfork logo on it’s undercarriage.

“That is bad news,” Slick spits. “I’ve never seen it for myself, but I’ve heard legends about this. That ship belongs to the batterwitch. She’s not part of the felt, but she’s one of English’s many treacherous succubi, and she’s conquered thousands of planets in the span of her prolonged life, so it’s only fitting she’d come to this one right after it’s inhabitants were freed. Unfortunately for her, there’s no one left on this planet except for frogs- and most of them are dead.” They finally find themselves at an uphill slope and begin their climb up. Soon the sound of shouting is heard up ahead. It’s all incoherent and Dirk’s trail is gone, so there’s no knowing what exactly is going on, but Slick knows that wherever the batterwitch is, there’s trouble.

When they reach the top, they find a sight even more caliginous than the one in the clearing. They spot Dirk’s unforgettable heart tier floating near a fallen, white tower that stretches for miles. Another blonde god tier is with him, a seer of light. They both stand watch over Dave, Jade, and a third blonde who appears to be the rogue of void.

Upon the base of what little of the tower still stands, a rather peculiar dilemma takes place. A cerulean-blooded troll dressed in badass, oceanic, pirate garb is currently being sleep-groped by another human, this one with the same tan skin-color and black hair as Jade. She too is a god tier, though neither Slick nor Ms. Paint can exactly figure out what kind. Her outfit makes her out to be some sort of maid, but the color-scheme does not match the front symbol. She’s the same color as the batterwitch’s space ship all the way down to her life symbol being white just like the crockerfork. She also dons a red tiara with the pisces symbol in the middle of it. Slick gasps, completely blown away by that stunning revelation. She’s working for the batterwitch! They can guess she plans to make her heiress to the throne. The two feel Sollux start to squirm as the scent of the scrap seems to upset him.

Further along the fallen tower, floating in the middle of a pit of lava, two familiar trolls seem to be locked in a rather callous brawl. This can’t be any courtship ritual. It’s too brutal even by black standards, although the tall bard of rage god tier seems to be intent on keeping the other troll alive. Each time he swings her off the edge and it appears she will fall into the lava, he swings her back up again and proceeds to beat the ever-loving shit out of her. She still seems to be dying nonetheless. She’s too weak to have any capability of fighting back, not that he’d let her. She can barely stand up without his support and he seems to have blindfolded her with a red scarf. Both bodies are stained by his purple and her teal blood, but mostly hers. A little ways off, a bewildered-looking human, a page of hope judging by his lack of pants, with the same skin and hair color as Jade and Jane lies in a fetal positing, unsure of what to make of the tussling trolls. Sollux gasps, uttering the horrified words, “Terezi…no…”

“Hey,” Slick curiously nudges Sollux. “What’s up with those two? They were great friends last I saw.”

In an angry, trembling voice, Sol hisses, “They were. We all were until we saw Gamzee’s true nature. He used to be so friendly. He would listen to everyone’s problems no matter how evil or kinky they’d get. But right before the scratch, he flipped out and murdered Nepeta and Equius. He would’ve murdered everyone else too if Karkat hadn’t calmed him down. We should’ve seen it coming, should’ve read the signs. It’s in his blood, but I guess he was just so laid-back we all put it out of our think pans and refused to believe he’d turn into such a vicious killer. It doesn’t help that his viciousness just makes him all the more…Where is Karkat anyway? Why is he letting this happen? Aren’t they supposed to be moirails?”

Slick looks around for a moment, then points when he spots the familiar troll, “There he is! I can’t believe I still recognize him. He looks exactly the same.” Sollux and Ms. Paint look over to the other side of the clearing. Karkat and Kanaya stand there and boy do they look pissed. Their faces curl into daggers up at Gamzee. Kanaya has her chainsaw out and looks pretty close to revving it up and doing some serious damage. That’s funny, Sollux thinks. She’s not glowing anymore. Is she alive now? There must’ve been a lot he missed over the last three years. He wants to scream at Karkat to tell him to stop Gamzee before it’s too late. What is he doing just standing there, watching?

But then the three notice something even stranger. Despite everything that’s happening, it’s all seemed to stop in motion, giving way for the baroness to do her dirty deeds. It feels the attention of everyone who isn’t either dead or unconscious is directed up above their heads to Betty Crocker’s ship.

Her Imperious Condescension stands at the bow of her ship, glaring down maliciously at everyone in the clearing, especially Aranea the pirate troll. It’s a bad time, but Slick can’t help but smirk at the batterwitch’s plans being foiled by a scrap of adolescents with lame superpowers. Still, as the witch slowly raises her red trident and points it at Aranea, who’s still immobilized due to Jane, Slick realizes this is another step in his quest to taking down English for good. He whispers to Ms. Paint, “We have to get on that ship before she does anything.” Paint nods in understanding. They slowly lower Sollux to the ground. Slick ejects one of the many daggers out of his collection and places it in the troll’s shaking hand. “Stay out of sight. Do not get into trouble.” With that, he grabs Ms. Paint, dispenses English’s old peg-leg from his cards, and soars up to the ship to confront the witch.

Once again alone, Sol pulls himself up to his feet, grabs Slick’s knife, and sniffs out the part of the white tower that still stands. Following the scent of blueberries and saltwater wrapped in maraschino, he drunkenly stumbles over hills, rocks and piles of snow, frequently falling onto his face but always getting back up and continuing. Finally he reaches the base of the tower and begins his perilous climb up.

Meanwhile, Slick and Ms. Paint reach the ship’s bow where the batterwitch stands, eyes still literally smoldering with red and blue psiionic and she stares the carapaces down. Paint secretly pulls out her holder once more and hides it behind her back. Slick turns the scepter-turned peg-leg until it points directly at the seawitch. The Skaia orb at the end of it rapidly flashes different colors and patterns as if it’s about to blow.

Atop what’s left of the tower, Aranea has had enough of this shit. It’s time to ascend to murder mode. But wait. What is this human doing? Is she always this committed in her sleep? Immobilized within the confines of Jane’s sleepgrope, Aranea can do nothing but watch as her hand slowly raises, a brilliant turquoise spark beginning to emanate from it, pointed straight at Aranea’s face! She struggles vainly, not wanting to have her soul sucked out again. The blue light glows brighter and brighter until Aranea finally ducks her head out of the way just in time for it to shoot out and narrowly miss her. She feels the air disturbed by the force gently ruffle her bangs.

The beam of blue light blasts downwards from the tower and across the clearing. It clears the lava pool completely, hurling straight over Gamzee, Jake, and Terezi’s heads, between Dirk and Rose, and hits Jade’s dead body. Only then does Aranea remember what type of class Jane belongs to. Forgetting she is even there, Aranea stares with dread over to where the small group of humans who also watch Jade intently. The same turquoise glow starts to spread all over her body, slowly consuming her. Her dark, skin color immediately replaces the dead paleness after she was killed and even from her position high above, Aranea notices the faint rise and fall of her chest within that black, space dress. Just great. Now all her work was for nothing. Oh well, Aranea thinks to herself. It takes a while for people to revive via life player powers. She still has plenty of time to brainstorm how to kill her and make sure she stays dead this time.

Slick’s orb vibrates fiercely as color pulsates more and more rapidly within. A burst of brilliance launches from the scepter and towards the baroness. The witch’s mouth curls into a look of pure horror as the power about to obliterate her is exactly the same as that of her boss. Slick sneers triumphantly and Paint’s heart flutters with suspended joy. But suddenly another flash of green light appears in front of the condesce a split second before the orb’s power hits her and collides with it. Slick and Ms. Paint’s expressions turn to complete shock as a white cat appears from the light and the orb’s power is suddenly nowhere to be seen.

Slick stands there in silence for a beat before an obnoxious explosion of Skaia’s spectrum erupts behind him and Ms. Paint.

Aranea concentrates hard, struggling to breathe as Jane’s unconscious arms robotically squeeze her lungs like sponges, on Dirk’s katana in hopes of directing it to Jade’s chest before she has the chance to fully revive. All that concentration proves all to be unnecessary once a beam of what Aranea can only describe as the pallet of the universe hits her sleepy, sexual harasser and eliminates her from that space. A weight is suddenly pulled off the pirate troll and she stumbles forward in awkward surprise. She looks around. Jane is nowhere to be found. She knows this can only be the work of one God Cat. Even better. That little prick is always screwing up everyone’s plans. It seems to currently be on her side, however. Now she can just pick the katana up and impale Jade herself.

Sollux gasps for breath as he exhaustedly yanks his body upward with each grab of his arm. After what seems like sweeps of tireless climbing, his strong sense of touch eventually finds nothing steep to cling onto anymore, but rather a limitless, flat surface. A spark of determination flares up inside of him as he realizes he’s reached the top and he pulls the rest of his body up all the way. Upon getting to the top, he sits for a moment to rest up and catch his breath, stands, and sniffs the air. To his surprise, he can no longer detect the maraschino scent of whom he thinks to be John’s ancestor. Only Aranea’s Machiavellian scent remains. What’s left of Sol’s teeth grit at the recognition of the smell and his nostrils flare, “You.”

At first, Aranea doesn’t even seem to notice him, her voice extremely casual and absent-minded, “Oh. It’s you. How did you manage to get here? The last I saw, Tavros, you, Nepeta, and Feferi all defiantly abandoned our crew in search of less robust ventures in the dream bubbles. What happened to all your friends? Surely they couldn’t leave the bubbles since they’re dead. Oh well. I’ll not bother you anymore. I have more important affairs to deal with at the present time and I can’t let someone as unimportant as you interfere.”

Sollux feels a distant rage he has not felt in ages suddenly ignite within his chest. All of Aranea’s smug shit has finally gotten to him. He’s never been this pissed off before, not when Karkat bitched at him, not when he found out Aradia tricked him into destroying his own race, not even when saying his last words to Vriska before leaving the pirate ship, “Everyone was wrong about you. You’re just like the other Serkets. You’re dangerous and you mess with everyone and everything just for attention and glory. Your Nice Girl act may have fooled your crew, but don’t think I don’t know you’re capable of just as much destruction as your ancestors. Someone should have eliminated you a long time ago. Long before you had the chance to cause this much damage.”

Aranea’s not even listening. Her main focus is on the tower where most of the humans dwell. Her concentration on taking aim of Dirk’s sword into Jade serves as a convenient distraction from what Sol plans to do. As quietly as possible, he unsheathes the dagger given to him by Slick and slowly climbs to his feet. Sniffing out the pirate’s direction, he eases on light feet toward her for what feels like an eternity. Her blueberry scent grows stronger as he approaches until he is nearly breathing down the other troll’s back. He holds his knife, ready to puncture the huge bitch.

When it finally seems Aranea has found a clear shot between father and daughter and prepares to telepathically stab Jade straight through the chest, a sharp, wet pain suddenly explodes in her side. She looks over to see the blind Sollux, red and blue eye-patches still intact, plunging a dagger straight into her right hip. Cerulean blood splatters out everywhere, staining her dress and getting all over Sol’s arms. She finds herself too surprised to even be able to scream this time. The agony emitted by this act of violence is worse than anything Dirk was able to produce with his katana at long-range, though not as much as his soul-sucking power. A head-on wound like this will take a while to subside along with the pain.

Sol retracts the dagger, the smell of the ocean splashing onto his face in form of troll blood. Before Aranea can do anything more, he jabs the dagger in a second time, this time engraving it into her shoulder and working his way in between her bones. She grunts and struggles madly as more blood is drawn and falls to her knees, forcing the dagger out again and causing another pained squeal. Sollux tries this a few more times, once nicking her nose and knocking her glasses off, and another time ripping a giant hole in her Mindfang dress, “Ugh! Hold still so I can kill you properly! It’ll be quicker and less painful for the both of us!”

“Why are you doing this, Sollux? You never have stricken me as a killer and I’m only trying to help all of our friends,” Aranea gasps out whilst choking on her own blood and silently begging her ring to do it’s magic and heal her to stop all the pain. Her energy dies out with the more holes Sollux pokes into her and her vision begins to fade, leading to a cease in struggling as well.

Noticing the slowing of her resistance, Sollux starts to back off as well. An overwhelming case of tunnel vision bestows itself upon the pirate’s eyes and she falls to the ground, the other troll’s dagger quickly unhooking itself out from under her back plate for the last time.

Sol smells nothing but her blood and from what he can tell, she is not in any condition to be reviving soon. Her body sprawls out awkwardly, her limbs unevenly crooked in proportion to her bloodstained torso. Despite the immense pain and tranquility of the life ring’s pace, Aranea smiles through her tears. Sollux beat her. He had the potential to kill her right after she called him unimportant. She underestimated him and now her plan may fail as a result of her long-term immobilization. She is but another step closer to achieving the goals of her beta self. Her eyes close at that note, finally slipping into sweet unconsciousness.

The effort by which Sollux pulls out the dagger swings his arm out over his head, causing him to flail clumsily and fall on his ass. The dagger, slippery from his sweat and Aranea’s blood flings out of his hand. He hears it clatter not far from where he sits. His breathing is even more intensified after the whole ordeal and he struggles to get it to die down. His head pounds as if it were the Green Sun and he had The Tumor and he chokes on blueberry-tasting blood, making it throb even more painfully. All he wants to do is lie down and rest his aching body. He wants to see Aradia, Tavros, and the others again. He knows he can’t, at least not just yet. He returned to the waking world for a reason and he can’t go back until he finds the others in the new session. After a while, the pounding subsides along with the crippling dizziness. He pushes himself to his knees and begins to grope the circumference of the tower, finally latching onto Slick’s dagger, still sticky with blood. Then, he stands up and looks around. He isn’t finished yet.

Ms. Paint stands in shock. What just happened? First it looked like Slick was about to blast the Condesce to smithereens with English’s peg-leg before a strange cat appeared out of nowhere and teleported it behind them. Slick bears his teeth in fury. He looks about to snap the scepter in half, “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? THIS LEG IS SO USELESS! WHERE THE HELL DID THAT CAT GO? I’LL SNAP IT’S NECK! PAINT, FIND IT AND PLUNGE YOUR CIGARETTE HOLDER SO DEEP INTO IT’S BRAINS!..”

Just as shocked as the others, the baroness watches Slick rant for a moment. Though she’ll admit she enjoys seeing an enemy so riled up like this, she is far from triumphant herself. That stupid feline is more trouble than the Disciple. It would have been easier if the God Cat teleported her away instead. At least then her lovely heiress could still handles matters while she made her way back just like she’s been doing. Now that Jane is out of her reach, she won’t be possessed any longer and will be without her weapon when she wakes up. She may have been sent to a place that could very well kill her so she may never resurrect. That animal is so unpredictable, and now yet another one of her many enemies has found yet another one of the many ways to destroy her. The troll empress just barely inwardly sighs. Everywhere she turns, someone is trying to foil her plan and always nearly succeeding. Today is supposed to be the big day…but it just isn’t hers.

Finally Slick calms down and points the scepter again at the baroness, attempting at a second try. Skaia revs up inside again and the same burst of light explodes from it. The multi-colored, flashy light heads straight towards the condesce, her mouth open wide in repressed outrage. Right before it hits her, Slick and Paint look on in horror at the familiar, brilliant ball of green light. That wretched cat again! As soon as it appears, it teleports Skaia’s power as well as itself down below once again.

Both Paint and the condesce gawk wide-eyed and open-mouthed as the last of the light disappears into the familiar, frosty dewdrops of the planet. Slick slams his scepter down in another fit of rage, “AGAIN! IT APPEARED AGAIN! WHAT IS DOING? WHY IS IT TRYING TO FUCK WITH US? I’M GOING TO WRING THAT LITTLE GREMLIN! WATCH ME, PAINT. YOU STAY AND SEE, BATTERWITCH. SEE HOW I DEMONSTRATE THE VERY ANNIALATION POTENTIAL OF SKAIA BEFORE I USE IT ON YOU!”

Meanwhile, Skaia’s blast is again transported away from the ship, but this time in a different spot. Instead of appearing on the tower where Jane was and blasting her away, it now shoots out from behind Terezi and Gamzee and heads right for Jake, knocking him clear across the lava lake and completely out of sight while Rose and Dirk look on in awe. “I DON’T KNOW WHY THIS IS HAPPENIIIIIIIING!” Jake screams as he unwilling flies through the air, a look of pure confusion etched into his features. His voice is spontaneously cut off after he disappears.

Sollux suddenly catches a whiff of fresh, spring grass behind him and turns around. The grass smell is replaced by what smells like Pounce de Leon if she were turned into a snowball. Obviously some sort of feline. Then the cat pounces, catching Sollux’s shoulder. In a panic, he lets go of his dagger and flails, walking backwards and unknowingly toward the edge of the tower. His foot doesn’t meet flat ground and tips on the edge, forcing him to trip and fall backwards to his doom, the cat still clinging to him. He hears and feels a whoosh and smells the grass again before the falling sensation comes to an abrupt stop.

He feels heat burning around him, taking form of the smell of chili. The cat is gone from his shoulder. Realizing there is still nothing beneath him, he falls a short one second before slightly painfully hitting more, chalky-white tower. His dagger falls with him, hitting him on the head to alert him. He swings his head around and finally focuses on the crippling horrid scene that makes him want to vomit.

Terezi’s minty blood returns fresh to his mind as he hears her pained gasps and pants for an end to the suffering. She doesn’t even seem to have the strength to get away. Not that she could if she tried. She’d never be able to escape the clown. Even if she could, the whole tower is immersed in lava.

It doesn’t appear as if Gamzee even acknowledges his presence. His attention is obviously directed at something very far off. He’s probably trying to showoff to someone.  
Sollux grimaces and picks up the dagger again, Aranea’s blood still fresh on the blade. He’ll just have to use it a second time. He walks toward the smell of Gamzee’s grape-colored god tier suit very slowly. He wonders in the back of his mind where and when he ascended. There’s not a single time he can remember this douche dying. He can’t even remember his dream self being killed in the green miles on Prospit, but then again, things were pretty hectic. Danger just seems to avoid him as if paradox space is working completely in his favor. Sollux raises the dagger, aiming straight for the smell of grapes, and in a lucky shot, sticks Gamzee directly in his back.

Down by the forest, Karkat and Kanaya’s expressions morph from furious to bewildered. Gamzee just stopped flipping them off and suddenly drops Terezi. Another burst of purple blood explodes from his chest, darkening his god tier suit even more. They think they catch a glimmer of light shine amidst the purple, as if something metal is in his chest. Someone must’ve gotten him with some kind of knife, but who? Not Terezi. She’s bleeding out on the tower right in front of him, barely conscious. Whoever it was, they’re about to manically regret it.

Gamzee immediately stops what he was doing before Sol stabbed him and starts to cough up what little blood that hasn’t poured out his chest already. Sollux pauses to observe him before doing anything else. Seeing Gamzee again after all these years gives him…feelings. He’s had these feels before, but only once when he last saw Gamzee. He hasn’t felt them since as he never encountered any alternate Gamzees in the Furthest Ring, but he knows them well.

He last saw Gamzee in the Veil after he had gathered the heads of all their dead friends together and made out with them. Before Karkat calmed him down, Kanaya and Terezi had wanted to kill him, but Sollux’s conflicting feelings for him had gotten in the way of his decisions. At that point, his duality complex had had him caught between love and hate even though he had clearly been a psychopathic murderer. Now is different. With his duality theme dropped for good after seeing what he did to Terezi, there is no love left. Only pure, ravenous, lustful hate that burns like an angry flame in the pit of his stomach, growing larger with every passing second.

Without thinking, Sollux spins Gamzee around to face him and smashes his lips against his bloody mouth, biting into whatever he can grab hold on with what teeth he has remaining. Terezi was right about the tastes as well. As soon as his mouth meets the god tier’s a flood of warm, sticky, grape soda swarms his tongue, making Sollux want to gag. Still, he clings on and draws more blood, adding to the horrible taste. He doesn’t even question whether or not he’s cheating on Terezi. They’ve gone way too far this time and if they were in an abusive relationship by the way it looked, this is the best way to finalize their break-up if they won’t do it themselves. It seems to have worked as Gamzee looks to have completely forgotten Karkat, Kanaya, Terezi, and the condesce and is totally entranced in Sol’s black advances. Not that Sollux wants to start anything with him, but he couldn’t help but act on his black urges after they’ve finally returned. Still, he’s determined not to let this get in the way of his plans. There’s still shit to do.

Still locked in their deadly, make-out session, Sol reaches around to Gamzee’s back where his dagger still sticks. He feels around for it until he finally grabs hold of the plastic handle, slippery with blood. He pulls it out of Gamzee’s back before driving it into his chest. Unsurprisingly, there’s really not much of his chest that is left to drive it into. After a long and furious series of holes Sol figures is from Terezi’s cane, it’s easy to rip open. Sol slides the knife down the whole of Gamzee’s torso and gropes until he feels the pointy ends of his ribcage. He plunges his hand into the busted tissue, grabbing around to find the jackpot, the round organ about the size of his fist, it’s pumping dying out with every passing second. Sol yanks it out and the beating ceases completely before he has the chance to sniff it. There’s no doubt this is his heart.

It’s still warm as Sollux palms it in his hand and marvels at how tiny it is in retrospect. Gamzee falls backward to the ground, now a bloody, purple mess with a giant hole ripped open where his chest once was. Sol knows there is only one last thing to do to finish the deed. He uses what remains from his sharpest fangs and tears into the purple organ. It tastes like a round, squishy eggplant. Blood pours down his cheeks and adds to the acrylic canvas that already shows bright on his shirt. He wants to just retch and get it all out, but the courtship dance of hate is not over yet. He continues to take large bites out of the heart. His angry dignity gone, he has been worn down to a sobbing wreck. Finally, only a few tiny, vestigial veins remain. It’s over. Karkat and Kanaya stare in wonder as Sollux descends to the ground with Terezi.

On the human tower, Jade’s eyelids begin to flutter open, the turquoise light around her slowly fading off and catching the attention of her lifelong friend she never even met on normal consequences yet. Rose elbows Dirk alertly, “Mr. Strider, look!” Dirk looks back down at where their helpless friends lie. Behind his shades his eyes widen. Dave starts to stir and he lets out a weak groan. Though he too wears shades, Dirk can tell his eyes are open and for just a short moment they stare straight at each other.

This time I’ll get you and send you straight to paradox hell, Slick thinks to himself as he aims Skaia at the baroness for the very last time. The flickering color shines brighter and brighter as the scepter powers up.

Using his last ounces of strength and energy, Sollux crawls toward Terezi, too exhausted to even sob correctly anymore. Mustard tears stream down his cheeks, mixing with all the blood as he snivels pathetically, “I hope you know this was a big mistake. Why did you get that huge bitch to heal your eyes? We were supposed to be blind together and you would teach me things. He’ll be back you know. He can’t die. When he does come back, I might not be able to stop him.”


End file.
